Of course, she was right. Anyone who thought Honoria was too weak or emotional to be a clan leader because she was a female clearly didn't know her at all.
His dragon grunted. We can extol her virtues later. If we keep standing around here, who knows, Shane might end up beating us.
Fuck if I'll let that happen.
He and Honoria quickly discussed
their plan, and Asher guided her to where the white light flashed slowly in the predawn light. Funny to think that if they'd done this an hour later, they might've missed it because of the sunshine. Yet another thing he needed to thank Honoria for—pushing them both to keep going. He would have to remember to do that for her in the future, too. She was strong, but there would be times she’d need his strength as well.
They stood just to the side of the blinking light, and Asher waited for Honoria to use the technical knowledge she'd amassed in America as part of her training to determine if it was an alarm or not. And if so, whether it could be disarmed or not.
After a few seconds, she plucked the blinking light off and tossed it to the side. She whispered, "A decoy alarm. It's just a flashing light poking out of a plastic box."
"That doesn't mean there's nothing."
"Right, so prepare yourself for what could be inside."
She moved to look for a door, but he pushed her to the side and did it himself. No doubt she'd yell at him later, but if it was a trap and it triggered some sort of gun or explosion, he couldn't watch as Honoria got hurt.
His dragon huffed. She might not see it as chivalrous.
Too bad.
Asher finally found a hidden latch, looked at Honoria, and nodded.
Taking a deep breath, he tugged lightly. A door swung outward, and nothing else happened beyond revealing a dimly lit corridor.
He pointed to his chest, raised one finger, and then pointed to the hallway. Honoria nodded, raised two fingers and pointed to her own chest, meaning yes, he could go first, thank fuck. Just the thought of something happening to her made his stomach churn.
His beast spoke up. Stop worrying about her until it's necessary. Otherwise, this partnership will never work.
Hush and focus on the task at hand.
While there was no guarantee this was even the right spot, Asher's gut said it was.
Which meant any misstep could disqualify them, such as if they were caught by some mysterious guards. He would need to trust Honoria.
Asher moved down the hallway, Honoria close on his heels. Beyond the compacted dirt floor and the occasionally flickering lights, he didn't hear or see anything else. Due to the aged lighting and spots of corroded metal on the wall supports, he could tell the tunnel wasn't new, though. It was probably a relic from the Second World War.
The corridor curved slightly before going down a set of steep metal stairs. They were slick with condensation, so he took each one carefully, not wanting to slip.
They both reached the bottom, only to find another door. Asher eased it open. The instant he did, a series of cries came from the other side.
"Food, please, give me some food. I haven't eaten in days. Tell me you're bringing me some food."
"Where's my mummy? I want my mummy." Sniffle. "Where's my mummy?"
"You bastards will pay when my clan leader back in Ireland hears about this."
And the various pleadings and threats only amplified, until he could barely make them out from one another.
Asher poked his head in and saw a series of cells, the voices belonging to each of the prisoners. Some were men, others teenagers, and one even contained a young child.
A flashback to when Asher had been half-dragged back to his cell, past the ones used for children and teenagers, came back to him. All of them had begged for help, food, water, and their parents. They had also pleaded that if he escaped, to get them out.
At the time, Asher had found just enough energy to knock out one guard and then the other. But just as he went to open the cell and let the kids out, someone had shot him with a tranquilizer dart. His vision had faded, a mixture of crying children and something he suspected was his own blood were the last things he’d seen.
Waking up hadn't been pretty, either. His cousin had made sure Asher knew he'd broken the rules. Even though his arm had healed within days, it hadn't hurt any less when it had been snapped in two.